


It's that time, again

by whaleofatime



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: AU, Gen, M/M, Slow Build, Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:31:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6475900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whaleofatime/pseuds/whaleofatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The AU where Lavi quits his job as a wildlife conservationist working on tigers in the wetlands of the Sundarbans to go on a journey to find himself. Hopefully. For now, he'll stumble across countries, try not to get too hungry, and follow up on the continuing intrigue of a mysterious man who's always just within sight (until he isn't).</p><p>(Part 1: Kolkata, India to Salamanca, Spain).<br/>(Part 1.5: Salamanca, Spain, to Tokyo, Japan).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're gonna leave me so I'll take you home

   What! A Spanish summer. Four and a half years breathing humidity and chlorophyll in the air after a long, marvelous stay in the water-logged swamps of India, and Lavi had somewhat arbitrarily decided upon the small, lovely town of Salamanca near central Spain as the location of a long-awaited holiday. Working in the [Sundarban](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sundarbans_National_Park), perpetually damp and in dire danger of getting crotch rot (for the 4th time, ahem) or dengue (only for the 2nd time, haha!), he isn't quite prepared for the dry, arid heat that punches him neat and clean in the throat when he gets off the plane in Madrid.  
  
   (Shalini, a serious local girl with the most heart-stoppingly glossy black hair and the grim countenance of a person who would pick animal over man any day asked him over the campfire, what made him decide to finally take a holiday after being so bloody-mindedly dedicated to tracking swimming tigers and armed poachers for years and year.  
  
   The answer, dear marvelous Shalini, is that he doesn't know himself. It probably has something to do with the fact that he has taken to chatting with the tree he often has his morning piss against. It definitely has something to do with a failed plan to catch some poachers that just landed them a gutted tiger, their assistance coming just a little too late.  
  
   There are no tigers in Spain, he knew that beyond any doubt).

   (Nor will there be Shalini's achingly pretty Bengali calling him for tea-time, but we do what we must).

   He doesn't have much of a plan; he'd first thought of staying in Madrid, or Barcelona, or pop down further south and gawk in awe at the Alhambra, but in the end he settled on Salamanca.  
  
   But why, Shalini would likely ask with her usual grimness.  
  
   But nothin', babe. He has a pocket full of cash and a chest filled to the brim with fatigue. He doesn't want the crush of too many people or too much history. He wants pretty buildings in the background and plenty of sunshine, and he has heard that bands of university students drunkenly sing in the public square come night-time. He can't speak Spanish for shit, but he can drunkenly sing with anybody in any language on Earth. If, if _PRAWNS_ were prone to singing drunkenly, he'd be a blubbering mess right next to them floating in the sea.  
  
   (Which _coincidentally_ is actually quite far away from Salamanca).  
  
   So he mimes his way through to getting a bus ticket to Salamanca, and crawls aboard while trying to ignore how the dry air feels like it's rubbing his lungs raw. The seat is surprisingly plush, and the lady sitting next to him keeps on good-naturedly talking at him about god only knows despite finding out that he can't speak Spanish (and that she cannot English). She is so spirited in her storytelling, so whole-hearted and invested, that he lets himself be carried away anyways. He hums and awws at all the right times, probably, and she seems to appreciate it anyways. And it sure is a lot more interesting than the dry, yellow plains that stretch and stretch and stretch endlessly away from Madrid.  
  
   He had not anticipated such a total lack of greenery. His eyes almost water, but the occasional field of horses and the woman occasionally happily bursting into laughter mostly by herself, it helps. Even the random ass in the back who keeps making disgruntled noises every time our lady laughs too loud becomes a part of a numbing lullaby of sounds that don't make sense to him.  
  
   (It would be great, Lavi thinks as their awful bus driver continues driving so awfully even he feels a little green about the gills, if he could find out what it is that's wrong with him that this is making better).


	2. Granizados for the grateful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man vs. Siestas

Salamanca's bus station isn't anything to write home about, and he had been a bit too dazed and distracted to notice the view on the drive in. Little suitcase in hand (who he has named Karina because it always struck him as such a desperately pretty name), Lavi looks around after waving goodbye to his seatmate, who has just quite excitedly flung herself into the waiting arms of a man who is grinning so hard Lavi's cheeks hurt just out of sympathy. Tongue-clicking bastard doesn't have any stowaway luggage; Lavi knows because t-c-b had hit him in the back with his backpack when Lavi had been waiting for Karina, and when Lavi turned to bitch heartily all he sees is a figure with glossy dark hair disappearing into the hazy heat.

Much kissing abounds as family and friends and lovers come to help with bags, and Lavi's mood nosedives even further. He hikes his backpack further up his shoulder, tilts Karina so her wheels hit the ground right, and walks off in a random direction.  
  
Quite probably, he should have looked into booking a hotel or a hostel or something, but Lavi hasn't had the chance to be a man of the internet for a good long while, and what he does have instead is excellent camping gear.  
  
It would be good if a place to stay popped up, but otherwise, he is fully prepared to secretly camp out in the mild wilderness flanking the river that runs by the little city.  
  
First things first, though. A boy needs his feeding. Absently looking forward to a ridiculous amount of ham, Lavi tries to follow his nose.  
  
-  
  
To absolutely nowhere. Lavi doesn't know the words, but he can make a reasonable guess that Horas probably refers to hours. Probably opening hours. Which on all the restaurants he has been to, don't include present time. Oh. My. God.  
  
In all the places (most of them Asian) that he has lived and worked in, he has never encountered this, this, this cultural anomaly (this straight-up travesty).  
  
It's hot, and the sun is beating down on him, but it's a dry heat and he doesn't feel the stuffy, weirdly comforting discomfort of a hot day in the mangroves.

Still, though.  
  
Why would an air-conditioned grocery store need a siesta?!?  ? ? ?! ?  
  
He may well weep, and Karina, dear sweet Karina would not be able to wipe his tears.  
  
But together they run into a McDonald's that is open, tucked just outside what he assumes is the main square, and the bewildered young cashier gives him his cheeseburger and his three lime grani-(ah, ah, not granitas, grani _zados_ , getting goddamn smarter with every passing moment, yeah) and a bunch of extra napkins because his eyes are literally glossy with tears by then. Lavi finds a little spot by the rubbish bin, where the air conditioning vent goes straight to his face, and tucks in, trying to think about the future.

The granizados are cool and tangy and sweet; he might survive this yet.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come holler @ [me](http://andthensomelion.tumblr.com/)


	3. we're not going to make it out this club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riverside camping and meeting people; the hallmarks of a good holiday (probably).

Aha, he goes in the end, it's riverside camping for him. The accommodation that is in the nicest location, skinny windows looking into Plaza Mayor, are hostels and he wants privacy (suddenly, strongly). Lavi suspects that he could find somewhere nice, with enough time and getting to know the place and the people, but for now, for today, he wants somewhere pretty and quiet and a little distant. The sun is scorching and dry; it's a desert in his mouth no amount of cold drinks can quench, so once he's decided he purchases yet another lime granizado from that most dependable of restaurants and slowly meanders down, down, down, to the riverside.

The shade from the trees is magnificent; light filters through in greens, and yes, green is for sure his favourite colour. There's reeds growing on the banks, quite a few weeping willows gently catching the breeze, and it feels just a little tiny bit wild. Good job well done, self, Lavi thinks to himself as he goes off the beaten path and circumnavigates a bit of fenced-off land, red clay naked in preparation for some construction.

This is the life, he decides, finding a secluded little meadow with a clear view of the river and not much else. Karina is dusty and a bit roughed up from the journey, but yields sweetly when he unzips her to take out his little one-man tent. He's pretty sure this is probably illegal, but do the police really have so much time on their hands to come after him and Karina? Surely not. He'll even resist jumping into the river to avoid detection!

For now, at least. All bets are off when the sun's setting and the river runs orange and he has so, much, grime to get rid of, on and in him. 

So Lavi goes about busy-work, hands assembling the tent without needing much participation from the brain. In the hazy distance, he hears the low growls of traffic, and in this little space he hears the wind whistling by, and-

Uhm.

The crunch, crunch, crunch of leaves being crushed underfoot, even though he is stood stock still, tent pole in hand.

Crunch crunch crunch rustle rustle rustle, and with a breakthrough moment, 2 young girls struggle through the circle of shrubs and into the meadow, flushed and chatting excitedly to each other.

Lavi looks at them, they look at him, and as one, they draw breath, and as one,

they fuckin' _scream_.

Lavi will note later, sat on a hard wooden chair at the station after a security guard from the building site heard the commotion and called the police on them, that between the girls and him they covered confusion and screaming in 3 languages, and hilariously enough, none of those 3 languages happened to be Spanish.

Globalisation, eh? What a goddamn wonder.


	4. Sun salutations, birthday booze, and magnificent mysteries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to-

   They get marched to the nearest police station by a summoned police officer, who becomes just as sweaty as confused as they are by the time they roll through the doors into air-conditioning.

 

   The officer looks frustrated with the lot of them, as Lavi carries on talking about how damp and gross his trousers are in Bengali, volume escalating, stressing out the officer while he says, god, the lint in this pocket, it's a week old and wet from sweat, eww.

  
  
   The 2 girls who look like a lifetime of sun missed one and visited the hell out of the other speak, eh, Japanese, probably, to each other, terrible Spanish to the officer, and attempt to English at him. Lavi would oblige, but he can see how close the officer is to just letting them go and that would be really nice.

  
  
   He'll buy the girls some churros and hot chocolate as soon as they get out of here. Lavi is good with his hands; body language is the only connection we need, mis chicas. If things carry on as they are, he'll drop by for some chocolate for the policeman too.

 

   He first just needs his freedom, and he can almost see the strain of dealing with lost foreigners break the man's last nerve-

 

   Only for it to harden right up right up when the door bangs open and a MAN (a Marvelously Angry Newcomer) strides in, looking perfect, poised and pissed.

 

   Behind him a small, harassed-looking policewoman comes in, both of them speaking rapid fire Spanish to each other in low, vicious tones.

 

   Our man is quick to get around the counter to join his co-worker and the MAN, and soon, the world is drowning in Spanish.

 

   Lavi lets the words wash over him in calming incomprehension, as the 2 girls sitting by him furiously check words up on their phones.

 

   You gotta just take things as it comes. It's hot as balls, this day in June, and if anyone's getting arrested for real, in a choice between loud but non-threatening Lavi and Extremely Loud and Extremely Threatening MAN, the choice is obvious. Lavi's already looking forward to finding a more secluded area by the river, and it doesn't take too long before the 3 of them are dismissed, waved off and away with barely a stern warning (probably) while the police officers put their all into dealing with the MAN.

 

   The girls turn down his offer of hot chocolate, probably (rightly) suspicious at his new-found ability to speak English, and he can't blame them, so Lavi leans against the front of the station and thinks about his plans-

 

   An activity, that is thwarted most effectively, by a frazzled old man with frizzy white hair and extremely thick spectacles running so fast the automatic doors just barely managed to outpace him. 

 

   Curiosity killed the cat, and Lavi is too but a humble mammal with 4 limbs and a penchant for small, high places. He walks just past the doors, so that he has access to both 1) hot goss and 2) cool air.

 

   The OLD (Outrageously Loud Dude) is embracing the MAN, eyes shining with bright tears, and pleads in French-accented English (hon hon hon yes yes) to the police officers that you must forgive him, for he is my son, and you must forgive him, today, of all days! 

 

   The MAN steadfastly refuses to translate; Lavi tastes the air of an embarrassed child being tormented by an embarrassing parent, and he almost, almost laughs. He clears his throat, deciding to go all in on this tomfoolery (giving himself good odds of outrunning everyone in the station right now, yes), and in his most police-y voice goes, "Sir, may I ask why he should be excused for today in particular?"

 

   OLD takes Lavi at face value, valuing Lavi as a cop when he turns to face that authoritative Voice. "It is my dear, dear sweet boy's birthday, but of course! We should ignore this little fracas, and go and have wine-"

 

Lavi doesn't disagree. Lavi also doesn't know what comes over him、other than demonic possession, because before the actual police officers could get their hands on him, he does 1 finger gun, 2 finger guns, points them at the MAN, winks like an obnoxious idiot, and in the most Bengali Spanish he can manage, goes 

 

# "¡Feliz cumpleaños!"

 

in a loud booming voice, just to see the MAN's gorgeous, harsh face break into a scowl so grim Lavi probably got killed a little.

 

That's my good deed for the day, Lavi thinks to himself, before he breaks into laughter, and then breaks into a dead run.

 

He knew that little phrasebook he'd bought at the airport would come in handy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Kanda you absolute ass.


	5. more than just not enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little of much too much (god bless all the ladies)

　Lavi is but a man, lost in his head but also lost in the Salamancan summer, and given that his tent doesn't come complete with air-conditioning and he is not a man of endless wealth, it's been a bit rough. However, it would have been Even Rougher, yes, were it not for some truly blessed intervention. Despite arriving with next to no Spanish language, a great many weeks of being in the country and 4 volumes of Beginner's Spanish, and Lavi can get by almost-okay in the grocery store, in the mercado near the Plaza Mayor, even in the bars on the rare occasions (exactly twice so far, all by himself) when he wants a drink not from a can, to be enjoyed while not sticky and gross in his tent.

 

　Passable Spanish isn't even the best of it! How could it be! On this, God's Green Earth, home to our dear, dear miss Shalini, probably still up to her waist in swamp water and tiger piss. Who, with a startling degree of efficiency, once he told her where he'd decided to stay for the next little while, she had gotten in touch with a professor-acquaintance of hers.

 

　You see, la Universidad de Salamanca has a center on tropical diseases, and an ancient, soft-spoken professor who is currently doing research on the state of public health in North India. A professor who speaks pretty decent English, almost-passable Hindi, and needs someone to help facilitate his correspondences with research faculties o'er yonder. Apparently, the man had given a few lectures at Shalini's university while she had been in med school and questioning her life decisions, and they had got along well enough that they kept in contact, well enought that she could wrangle an interview for Lavi to apply as a research assistant.

 

　Y'know, despite being unable to speak much of any Spanish at all, and suffering from some form of discomfort in the head. He'd gotten the job, after an extremely informal interview on campus where both he and Doctor Arturo had cycled through every language in their repertoire, discussing first the scope of the work, and then, once they'd gotten a bit warmed up and found the sweet spot of intercultural communication, the many illnesses they've had while working in India.

 

　Tick bite scars are sorta like badges of honour, but also like a friendly smile, wouldn't ya know it? Lavi had felt homesickness, heavy and slimy in the back of his throat, when the good doctor had flipped open his laptop and showed off pictures of his latest research trip, going along with the boat clinics of the Brahmaputra. After many oohs and aahs, Lavi gets a folder full of messages from various universities from Northern India for him to go through and collate, a gentle smack on the shoulder, a polite congratulations on getting the job, and an extremely soft intimation that Lavi is welcome to come along, the next time our good doctor goes down to visit.

 

　Lavi had accepted the job, glad to have something to do, and had sent off a postcard to his dear Lady of the Swamp with a hundred and one thank yous spewed all over it.

 

　Gainfully employed, perhaps he should find a proper place to stay!!!

 

　Only perhaps. The tent is good to him, the good doctor is good to him. Arturo is easy to work with, and Lavi is a good worker, especially when things are as fascinating as they are at work, with the mounds of books, letters in a familiar alphabet, and his tiny cramped desk that's pressed right up against a window.

 

　It's going okay. Lavi supposes he can't ask for more, as he sips some wine at a university-wide event for the teaching staff, partially hidden behind a potted plant. The language barrier is still an issue, as is whatever the fuck mental block it is he's got all nice and solid in his head. So he stays near the open bar, nursing a glass of wine, and trying to pretend he is but a solitary man in a sea of Sundarban man-eating tigers, since tigers are a lot easier on his nerves than just regular old people.

 

　Lost in thought, he doesn't notice that someone else is also evidently trying to avoid human contact while staying in close distance of some alcoholic courage.

 

　The invasion gets a bit more obvious when the newcomer clicks their tongue at him in obvious displeasure, and Lavi is So Ready to fight right the hell back, getting a good lungful of air before looking up to give them a piece of his mind-

 

　Only to be met by the narrow, extremely blue and extremely aggravated stare of the Marvelously Angry Newcomer.

 

　"Dios mio," Lavi maybe accidentally hollers at the top of his lungs, and the MAN looks like he's suffering 3 times as much.

 

　The good doctor Arturo hears his suffering from across the room, apparently, and soon appears ready to heal any wounds, looking between Lavi and MAN with a faintly concerned expression. "Ah," Arturo goes. "I see you have met the, mm, profesor visitante of the Centro Cultural Hispano Japonés? Profesor Yuu, this is my research assistant, Lavi."

 

　Will wonders never cease? Lavi can't drag this goddamned smile off his goddamned face, as el profesor Yuu looks like someone's just shoved a bucket of lemons and two buckets of salt right down his throat, looking at Lavi like a smooshed bug as he barks "Encantado," like he's never met anything less enchanting in his entire life.

 

　"Encantado," Lavi returns, while inside his head he is laughing himself sick.

 

　It is, indeed, a tiny ass world after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe the university of Salamanca gave me such a smooth ass way to get them to meet again. Also, this is what inspired Dr. Arturo's research theme: [On the Brahmaputra](http://qz.com/729857/on-one-of-the-worlds-largest-rivers-floating-clinics-bring-doctors-and-medicines-to-millions/)


	6. The strange feeling of almost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress!

 The tent and he, they tried to keep their relationship going, even when the going got really, really tough.

 

 Sometimes, even when a relationship's always been so good to you, it can go bad, and a clean break is the best you can hope for.

 

 All the warmth has gone out of (their relationship) his flimsy tent with the arrival of the harsh Salamancan fall (to complement the ending of the vicious Salamancan summer) and Lavi, like it or not, had to move. He'd arrived to work one day with a ghostly blue tint to his face, and the prof had hotly demanded he find proper lodging, because his research grant cannot, indeed, will not cover the funeral costs of a semi-homeless research assistant.

 

 Fair enough. Lavi had then taken to sleeping in the office, and Arturo hadn't minded overly much, because Lavi was always so careful to keep his mess to his side, and sleeping over mostly meant he got started on work at whatever ass a.m. he woke up at rather than office hours. Everything had been going quite well with the arrangement, until the faculty head had come into the office with some lab results to drop off and had nearly gotten a heart attack after tripping on the dead-looking body of a sleeping Lavi curled up by the radiator near the door.

 

 While that would have been a hell of an Incident by itself, Lavi in his endlessly deep sleep hadn't even stirred from getting kicked in the back, and the faculty head, bless her heart, assumed the worst and had called an ambulance immediately before attempting to resuscitate him.

 

 That's the thing with medical workers; they've got upper body strength like mountain gorillas, and her 'gentle' slapping to wake him up was more like a spirited attempt to dislocate his jaw. The paramedics had arrived just in time to hear Lavi cursing like a screaming sailor at the rude awakening, and the profesora considering actual murder.

 

 So! The office became a no-go zone.

 

 And now, he's living in the spare bedroom of a nice lady who usually rents out her rooms to students, and his room has 3 beds and 2 occupants who are constantly having sex (unfortunately neither of them are him, gosh damn) and he just wants breathing space.

 

 The kids usually start getting Handsy around 9 in the night, and like tonight, Lavi will be out at half eight, enjoying a glass of wine in Plaza Mayor.

 

 It was really nice in summer, balmy with the lights glittering, but now his breath fogs but he still refuses to go inside. Al fresco dining, baby! Until he al frescan't.

 

 The wine is a little cheap and a lot cheerful, and Lavi is enjoying his Alone Time, humming along to music on his dinky little music player, before something catches his eye.

 

 Really, seriously, honestly, who keeps hair that long!

 

 His mouth moves almost before his brain fully registers what he's seeing, and he's already hollerin' at the top o' his lungs, "Professor!"

 

 Yuu (what a name! what a guy!) whips his head around, ponytail swinging harmlessly over the top of a mildly inebriated lady who is also enjoying outdoor seating. Yuu's face, naturally harsh to begin with, goes harsher still, but Lavi is still waving like a madman, all invitation and white teeth.

 

 They look at each other for aaaaaaaages, a waiter standing awkwardly with hands wringing his apron, uncertain how to intrude.

 

 Yuu breaks first, which is not entirely surprising, because Lavi has had ample practice being passionately, mercilessly cheerful while he chats with his hostess as the 2 kids believe with all their little hearts that them fucking in the storage closet is super quiet and discreet. 

 

 It's almost unbelievable, when the professor with a face like an angry cliff actually comes over to him, and slams a bottle of wine he'd ordered from the awkward waiter onto the table. 

 

 "It's been a shitty day," Yuu growls, sitting heavily in the metal chair and making it groan, seemingly impervious to how fuckin' cold the steel is in this Salamancan night. "I'm going to drink, and you can watch or you can join, but you sure as hell are paying for it."

 

 It's been so long since someone's spoken to him wholly in English that it makes his head spin a little, and before Lavi can ask, hey, Yuu, how's it going?, our professor's already a glass down and working energetically on his second one.

 

 We-ell, Lavi hasn't spent any of his income on rent since he got here; what's a night out with barely-acquaintances-certainly-not-friends?

 

 He grins, goes "Salud!" like he's never wished for anything more, and goes to play catch-up.

 

-

 

 Lavi wakes up in a room with actual heating, trousers, gone, recollection of how he came to be melded into the soft black leather of this massive sofa, gone, concept of time, gone, gone, gone.

 

 The sun is full on shining in his face, and Lavi can barely recall his name. 

 

 Deciding to start small, he cracks one eye open, sees a body on top of him, long dark hair spread all over like black mold, and thinks,

 

_Uhm_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a sudden random ass update thanks to a gracious comment on the previous chapter ;) i'm always super pumped to get feedback! super! goddamn! pumped!


	7. 12 grapes and a whole lotta time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> have a toast for the scumbags!

 Hand on heart, if you'd asked Lavi what he would have expected from a drunken one-night-stand with the constantly spittingly angry Japanese professor Yuu, his response would not have been 'all limbs intact with a brand new flatmate'. But here we are! Frigid in late December, late as you can get before the year's gone and January is careening down your throat with calls for good cheer and chilled Cava, and they're sitting all pressed up on Yuu's lovely, broken-in leather couch, watching a horror movie and eating way too many prawns. 

 

 The prawns were grilled to perfection, the wine is delicious and fizzy on his tongue, and Lavi cannot believe how things have gone. He'd woken up to a heavy helping of dozing lecturer sprawled across his chest, head pounding with a crazy hangover, and he had expected the Absolute Worst. He was sore and sticky, felt heavy and lethargic, and had assumed that they had gotten up to some hands-on Fun the night before. Lavi had worried, in a distant sort of way, that Yuu and his vicious short-temper will be having some hands-on Not Fun beating Lavi up in the cold light of morning. 

 

 He'd shaken a bare, bony shoulder, fully-prepared to deal with whatever may come.

 

 What did come was a solid five and a half minutes of aggressive cuddling as Yuu refused to wake and treated Lavi much the same way a petulant child would their favourite blanket, four and a quarter of solid bitching before the man would get up in all his resplendent glory, and twenty five and a third minutes of uninterrupted bitching before Lavi was treated to fluffy omelettes and too-crispy toast, tea steaming by his side.

 

 It was the most awkward least awkward morning after Lavi had ever had, and Kanda had seen him off at the door in just a pair of boxers with tropical hibiscus flowers printed all over them. 

 

 Lavi had felt downright compelled to question their status, standing outside in the hallway, the most sheepy he has ever, ever been. "So, uhm... This... was nice?"

 

 Yuu had quirked a stylishly thin eyebrow, high, mocking. "Was it." What a flatliner to a conversation!

 

"F'me, it was. I remember up till 'bout bottle number 4, yeah, 'nd I remember you takin' over a guitar to play something wicked fast while bein' way too drunk to stand right. And it was for real great that you didn't even rough me up after waking up with me in your bed. So. Uhm. We should do this again?"

 

 When after a long, long pause Yuu goes "Fine", Lavi can't tell who's more surprised.

 

-

 

 Meet-up after meet-up after meet-up, mostly instigated by Lavi holding boxed wine and showing up at the front door, and Lavi would say they got close.

 

 Close enough that Yuu even drops an entertained snort whenever Lavi fucks up a retelling of a funny story in Spanish, close enough that they take turns to foot the bill when they go out.

 

 Close enough, apparently, that one day in mid-December while they were getting hammered after a conference in Madrid, Yuu had said (in that startling way that has him looking angry that his mouth apparently had refused to listen to his brain)  "Oi, shit for brains. Move in and pay half my rent."

 

 Lavi had been going on a good-natured rant on how hard it is to feel like an adult when he's expected home for dinner promptly at 7 pm, or risk worrying the kindly lady host. Yuu.... Yuu had apparently been listening. 

 

 And in the same way they'd fallen into bed together that first night weeks upon weeks ago, they'd fallen into flatmatehood-

 

-

 -and right through into something looking a whole lot like a bosom friendship. Bosom friends, drinking Cava and insulting people on the screen for having horrible reaction times and a bewildering lack of self-preservation instincts.

 

 A night of continuous jolly drinking are on the cards tonight, and with time-zones and shit, Lavi had sent out his Happy New Year! messages just before dinner, so that gummy spicy prawn-fingers don't clog up his phone. 

 

 "I would kill him myself," Yuu mutters, about a blond man picking a fight with an obviously possessed woman. "Don't even need to be possessed. Just kill him and end it early."

 

  Lavi reaches over him for the bottle of the fizzy good stuff, and steals a prawn right from between Yuu's pinched fingers. "Remind me t'never hit up a haunted cabin with you, jefe. You'd leave me f'dead while I was fully hale 'n hearty." 

 

  "Take my prawn again and I'll kill you for real." Yuu tries half-heartedly to jab him right in the eye, and Lavi evades it, smooth as anything. 

 

  Getting on each other's nerves is how they show affection! Pretty much. 

 

  There's suddenly a lot of screaming on screen, and they turn to look at what the tontos are up to next. Blood and gore are gone a-flying everywhere when Lavi's phone makes a quiet little beep. Our man with a bit of a plan curses, and vaults over the back of the sofa. "Open th'regular tele, Yuu! We've got like, 5 minutes before 2017 is gonna come a-calling. Where th'fuckening are the grapes!"

 

 Apparently! There is a tradition of drowning a grape a chime to the New Year's bell, 12 in total for good good luck. This is what he'd been told by his teacher in his Spanish class, that and Cava for the new year, and Lavi, Lavi has 12 grapes for each of them, and he'd go for 365 for every day of the year if he thought he could swallow so hard, so fast.

 

 12, 12 is good. He grabs the little containers, and slides back into his seat just as the countdown starts, and he is screaming down from _Diez_! at the top of his lungs, feeling giddy because this will be a new year, he is with a new friend, this will be a good thing, he can hope that the fog between his ears has been bubbled all the way away by Cava and the world's steadiest presence.

 

The heavy toll of the bell ringing in the new year almost drives him to tears, almost, for reasons he doesn't all the way want to comment, and Lavi chews each grape precisely once before he's swallowing them, all 12 neat in a row, and he turns around to kiss Yuu with grape skin in his teeth, thinking maybe, ah, maybe this year will be my year. 

 

 (It feels like it's going to be a good one).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR DUDES this needs to be read-over but for now ;) here you go. wherever you are, babes, i hope you got hope in your hearts for 2017 too.


	8. something wicked this way marcheth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes it's time to say goodby-

 Things are going quite well in the People's Republic of Kanda, if you ask Lavi.

 

 Food and lodging are provided in exchange for a modest bit of assistance with the rent and grocery bill; Yuu only uses up all of the hot water when he goes to town on washing his absurdly long hair, and the landlord has already promised to put in a new boiler for Endless Hot Showers; Yuu does the cooking and Lavi does the cleaning, which works out great for a man who has lived entire years of his life out a little cramped tent that necessitated neatness.

 

 As far as vices go, Lavi's is a tendency to talk down to people when he's in a Mood, and Kanda's is his bouts of explosive temper that has him sprinting out the house dressed all in black gym clothes to beat the Will to Live out of a punching bag.

 

 They fight, of course, they are fightin' people, but things get resolved faster when they're both riled up to hell and back, and screaming (for them, at least) is a great way to get the point across faster.

 

 It's a sweetly-sweetly life, pretty much. Lavi gets his spice from his work doing statistical analysis on malaria cases that crop up where the long ribbon of the Mahanadi river meets and widens into the sea, gets plenty of salt most naturally as he bitches about his workload with the other researchers in the staff cafeteria, gets that tangy sour note when Doctor Arturo looks at his conclusions and goes, This Is No Good.

 

 Yuu, somehow, is his chilly dessert, pleasant but, ah, hard-hitting on the palate, like tart-but-sweet pineapple smoothie when the weather outside is nothing but screaming sun.

 

 Should've known better, oi. Nothing this absurdly cool can last in the face of heat, and this late in March, with Spring so close to them, well.

 

 'tis the season for change. 

 

 -

 

 It starts with Yuu coming home with a face that could probably summon storms. "Fuck," he goes, instead of a little grunt and a semi-affectionate knocking of the shoulders. Lavi'd been prepared for their usual welcome home; his shoulder is Bereft.

 

 "Darlin'," Lavi replies, rubbing his lonely shoulder. "¿Qué pasa?"

 

 A man of few words before, Yuu becomes a man of none, and he just passes Lavi a sheaf of extremely important-looking papers.

 

 Papers that, from his still shaky grasp of Spanish, seem to be saying that Profesor Yuu Kanda has been duly appointed to head up the Spanish department in a university that has close ties with Salamanca.

 

 That's good! That's grand! Where is this sister university, both you and Lavi wonder.

 

 Doesn't take an enlightened linguist to figure out what _Tokio_ ,  _Japón_ stands for.

 

 A pay rise! Heading up his own department! Going back to his roots! A great university! 

 

 10 goddamn thousand kilometers away from Lavi, just as he's about to reach an extremely longed-for1st anniversary of being in Spain.

 

 Lucky grapes??? Ah, he knew that 3rd one had been a little bitter on the tongue. Lavi looks at Kanda, and they both-

 

Breathe in for 6, breathe out for 8 (they both are trying to learn patience in the face of their own explosions).

 

 Lavi breaks eye-contact first. "Fuck!" indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to i_am_zan, a most dedicated reader!
> 
> the desire to update this story only ever seems to come when i'm feeling moody and it's ass o'clock in the morning, uhm.


	9. springtime of youth? sounds awful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some next level cross-continental bullshit, right here, right here

 Blink, and you miss it. Fuck, but Yuu has forgotten how much he hates springtime in Japan. It's been almost a month since school started, over a month since he was first formally introduced to the faculty. The Spanish department staff were pretty okay, even though there's 3 of them (including himself) and none of them share a common nationality. Given that Bea is from Chile and Marco is from Basque, it's questionable that they even share a language.

 

 The meeting had been almost incomprehensibly mind-numbing. Yuu remembers, distantly, that someone had said that this university was pretty progressive and Out There for Japan. Yuu is told first day on the job to not mind the smell of manure wafting by, pig farms are all over. Yuu is then told to avoid the bathrooms the same floor as their office, because it's maaaad haunted. Out There seems about right.

 

 The Dean is a short, squat man who talks to his personal assistant like she's dirt holding a dictaphone, and the bus line that gets everyone from train station to school is his personal idea of hell. It becomes his literal idea of hell when the semester started, and because of his preference for a slight heel to his shoes and his god-given height, he gets nutted in the nose 3 times on the first day of school.

 

 The children are, frankly, idiots, and idiots who for some extremely erroneous reason assume he can't speak Japanese (because he refuses to??? It's a Spanish class?? How will they learn if they do not suffer?) and would freely talk about how strict and mean he is as they leave class.

 

 Child, impassive though his face may be, Yuu is taking names of all those who cross him. It cost a hell of a lot to get here. Trying to get a housing contract sorted out before he went bankrupt staying in a shitty hotel the size of half a shoe box, trying to keep a straight face when he can't recognise a kanji character but he Refuses to Show Weakness, trying to not act on the impulse that university would be a lot better without university students in it, ah.

 

 In his own, extremely angry way, he is trying very hard.

 

 Marking grammar worksheets probably isn't anybody's idea of a fun Saturday night, but it's Golden Week around the corner, and Yuu's already booked a dinky little cottage in the ass end of nowhere, close to a big river with good fishing and a shrine with good prayin' (probably), and he dreams a dream of being left the hell alone (anyone who contacts him over the duration of his break will be penalised, even if they are staff, my god, watch him).

 

 (He'd checked, before booking on that hellsite AirBnB. Flights to Spain over this peak, the peakest of peaks of holiday time were completely and utterly obscene. He would have done it anyways, because Yuu truly believes that trying to censor himself is a damn fine way of wrecking himself. But between the down payment for his apartment and all the endless costs of starting up life again somewhere hideously foreign, well.

 

 Will doesn't translate so good into Yen. The exchange rate is actual bullshit.)

 

 It's... Late. The birds seem to wake up really early here, or there's just more of them. It's Late enough that it's okay, okay for him to shove aside the grammatical attempts of children that couldn't conjugate hablar into simple present tense for love nor for money, okay for him to turn on Skype, okay for him to click dial, and hope.

 

 And hope, and hope.

 

 A chicken screams, somewhere in the distance. Surrounded by all the cocks except for the one he can actually tolerate.

 

 It's going to be a long year. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna update monthly, i tell myself, forgetting about this before waking up in cold sweat going i forgot this.... but also my rent. how was april? what will become of us in may? stay tuned, for more timely(?) updates.
> 
> thanks to all the babes who commented last chapter, y'all make me feel damn damn nice so for real thanks


	10. maybe it's not me, it's (not) you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Salamanca, Lavi persists. Sometimes globalisation isn't just the death of culture!

 It's been a good 2 months now since Yuu packed up and left, and their previously extremely easy-going relationship has dropped into some type of hell-limbo for people who are bad at fuzzy edges. They're still in a relationship, Lavi's pretty sure, but between Lavi's all-hours all-encompassing work in the labs and lectures, and Yuu's never-ending stream of people making unreasonable demands of him, the time they have for each other is severely limited.

 

 It's not the first time he's got Google looking for cheap tickets to Japan for him; it likely won't be the last. His actions are so embarrassingly transparent that when he types in the letter 'f' his browser is already going "-lights Madrid to Tokyo". He hasn't yet gone through with it, because Money, but also because it's hard to figure out what kind of reception he'd get if he did actually go.

 

 Yuu showed him the little studio apartment he's got on camera once, a tiny thing tucked away near a lot of farm and forest land, over an hour's commute from school just so that he doesn't constantly have people in his face. It's a shitty kind of cramped, but Lavi has soft memories of his first arrival to Salamanca all those months ago, feeling like the endless expanse of the desert will suck him dry.

 

 (It's kinda succeeding. Both he and the succulents Yuu has had since his pre-Lavi era are looking the worse for wear with their master's absence).

 

 Skype's just not the same for people who excel at body language, and Lavi's.... kind of cut adrift, again. 

 

 Doctor Arturo has noticed his plummeting mood, even though Lavi does his damnable best to not let it show in his work. "You'd think this was your first ever relationship, the way you pine," he'd said, laughing not totally unkindly at Lavi who had been looking like a miserable bloodhound while translating some of the official notifications from Hindi to Spanish. "Just go see him already."

 

 Not like anyone needed additional moroseness at a lab that deals with uncomfortably high mortality rates and awful diseases every day. Lavi thinks he should do it, is resolved to, which is why he's got a Google tab open, and why he's got his calendar in hand. Life decisions probably shouldn't be made at 6 in the morning, but he's been overnighting at the lab a lot to look after some bacterial cultures (and to avoid their quiet flat) and honestly? Time is a Construct of Man.

 

 High off caffeine and energy drinks, alert as all _hell_ , Lavi still nearly pisses himself when someone unlocks the door and strides in, flipping the light switches on. He may have hissed as he pulls the blanket to cover his tender, tender eyes, but depending on the season, low-key feral researchers inhabit the labs with a pretty high population density so it's nothing too unusual.

 

 It isn't anything the good doctor hasn't seen before. Arturo snorts, knocking back his chai latte (that he without fail will add cardamom and cinnamon to, because wao people pussyfoot around spices a lot even here in sunny, sunny Spain) and brushing the froth off his formidable Santa Claus-beard. "Just the man I needed to see. Lavi, Lavi, I have news."

 

 The school had better be on fire. If you cut Lavi open, he will bleed rusty-pee-coloured Red Bull right now, and he's fairly miserable, and he's suddenly extremely certain (in the way of prophets who are enlightened at the weirdest of times) that this thing with Yuu really might be his first seriously serious relationship.

 

 It must show on his face. His boss laughs again, like a spring-time St. Nic, and pulls out a bright blue folder from his shoulder bag. "There is a conference on risk management after natural disasters in, aha, Tokyo, Japan. Do you know anyone who would like to assist me for my talk on water treatment in flooded conditions? Looking for volunteers, if you know any."

 

 The speed with which Lavi leaps over his laptop, 3 chairs, and an entire lab table is so astonishing he might have actually performed magic. 

 

 "I VOLUNTEER!" he hollers in he's not even sure what language; hollers so loud it rouses Felicia who's drooling sweetly in her sleep in the next lab over, fruit fly samples gently defrosting on her table. 

 

 Ah, Youth! The good doctor thinks, but doesn't say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is becoming a Thing, when I only remember to pay rent but also to update this fic around the same time at the end of every month. also i started a (semi) daily writing blog, because i'm out of shape re: quality production, so feel free to browse and drop requests [here](https://cetaceans-pls.tumblr.com/).
> 
> and i keep meaning to say it but never remember to; as a general rule, will write for money. if you make a charitable donation to a decent cause and can prove it, i'll write you something. if you want to commission me for some crazy wild reason, uhm, we can figure something out maybe.
> 
> see you guys in june!!


	11. juked to hell and back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a glorious (almost) union

The toilets are Incredible.

 

This touchdown in Tokyo town is a welcome one. Lavi's fresh off a rough flight that had stopped over in Abu Dhabi for 6 hours. It's not even _close_ to being the longest layover he's ever had to deal with. It is, however, the longest he'd had to stay in a terminal without a functioning toilet. He's never seen so many Out Of Order signs in his entire goddamn life.

 

So after that, arriving at Narita with talking toilets and warmed seats and unnecessarily hi-tech hand dryers, it's incredible.

 

He'd shed a tear, probably, if he had any liquids left in his body. The good doctor will be arriving on Sunday, since the conference starts on Monday. Lavi's here first for the busy work, to get the schedules fixed and register for all the things that need registering. 

 

He can't speak Japanese, beyond some useless words (sometimes Yuu forgets the names of things in English and in Spanish, and will just bark the Japanese word a few times until Lavi guesses what he wants fetched and fetches it) and phrases (all sexual, let's be real). He doesn't know what Robot Toilet Lady is saying, but he flushes and says thank you absently anyways, just in case Robot Toilet Lady can hear (what a thought). 

 

It's 11 pm, almost, but customs and immigration had gone by smooth as anything. He's on the university's dime, so he's hoping the train schedule is kindly to dazed, dehydrated dumbasses who haven't slept in maybe 36 hours. Salamanca doesn't love him enough to spring for a cab, unfortunately.

 

The tap has a sensor, and the water is refreshingly warm. Where is all this technology in Madrid's awful, awful airport? Why the disparity?  It's ridiculous.

 

He's ridiculous. Three men have come in, done their business, washed up while trying to avoid giving him obvious strange looks, and left while he's been washing his hands, brain going fuzzy. It's unfortunate, but this sense of detachment from reality is extremely reminiscent of those last few weeks in India, when he'd decided he needed a change.

 

What sort of a change does he need now, he wonders.

 

The tap taps out and shuts off automatically, like it's had enough of him. Same, if he's honest. 

 

It's 11:15 now, it should be time to go.

 

It's the 29th of June; the time to have told Yuu that he would be in the country has passed him by for weeks, probably. 

 

Still, though, as he picks up his bag and heads out to muddle his way through the Tokyo train system, on the cusp of June 30th and a soft gasp away from July, in the muggy Japanese summer he finds some balls, some shallow well of courage that he makes use of now before it runs dry and he runs off.

 

**[hey cariño can you guess whos in japan right now right now? staying at the toyoko inn in shinagawa. wanna meet? ;9]**

 

His face has never felt less like a cheerful emoji in his entire life. 

 

-

 

Not very far away from the airport at all, Yuu's phone buzz buzz buzzes, and when he checks it, he loses his shit just a little. "Puta madre," he grumbles at the sky, at the time of night, at the bus schedule that has long since stopped.

 

He could probably get there in 2 hours by bicycle, but Lavi has dropped this on him all of a fuckin' sudden, it's almost goddamn midnight, and he's going to leave Lavi waiting, he's going to leave him waiting for a whole damn month the way Lavi's stopped Skyping him since late May.

 

(Honest to god Saturday cannot come soon enough.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school is hell and i am a demon. will stress pimples ever fuck off? will the ankle i sprained from playing pokemon go too hard get better any time soon? the answer to this and many other questions in next month's instalment!
> 
> [for more questionably Good Stuff](https://cetaceans-pls.tumblr.com/)
> 
> also there's something super pleasant about writing this fic in real-time it feels like progress somehow hmm


	12. somebody called it a lifetime back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's rain rain rain and nothing else (what a miserable time to be alive)

 Yuu knows many things about himself. Owing to a ridiculously international upbringing, he's good with languages. He's fast, fastest sprinter in middle school and high school even though those were on separate continents. His hair is long but split-end free, because his neck feels unprotected if his hair is short or in a bun (the split-ends are a simple matter of Pride and Good Practices).

 He's not very good with relationships, mainly because he doesn't usually see the point of them.

 He is not very good at drinks, and sometimes, he's not very good at Lavi.

 It was supposed to be _good_. A message out of nowhere on Thursday, half a plan for a surprise on Saturday, maybe then a borderline-pleasant reunion with a good hearty dose of sex over the weekend. It _should_ have been good.

 Instead he'd arrived in Shinagawa Saturday morning to surprise his idiot lover, only for Lavi to answer his call and go, oh, darlin', you didn't say nothing, yeah, so I've left to do some work for the professor.

 Yuu's irritation had risen quite a lot. Getting to Shinagawa early enough for breakfast from his apartment in the ass end of nowhere is no mean feat, but it's been months and he just wants to see that stupid hair and that stupid face and all that stupid, so he had calmed down (calm enough for Yuu, at least) and said he would wait.

 It had felt like it was worth it, with how pleased Lavi had sounded, and they made plans to meet up at a fashionable little tapas bar within walking distance of the hotel for dinner.

 He should have known. 10 hours to kill in one of the busier areas of Tokyo, on a muggy weekend with the threat of rain looming, it never was going to end well. He should have just left, gone home and texted Lavi the address, have him come over and maybe even treat him to a meal at the world's best soba shop, with the one-eyed 50-year-old shop owner who still makes all the noodles fresh every day.

 Should've should've should've.

 Should _not_ have gone to a bar after a long, long time spent being prickly and uncomfortable in a cafe swamped with tourists and families, should _not_ have held any expectations for the Spanish bar food to be good, should _not_ have started knocking back matcha hai after matcha hai because after months, having Lavi pressed up close on the stool next to him feels so goddam... unnatural.

 The alcohol had gone straight to his head, and because Kanda Yuu is a poker-faced man (so long as poker is meant to be played while angry), Lavi hadn't been tipped off that Yuu was getting drunker and drunker and angrier and angrier.

 "So Felicia, yeah, you know her, the hella stern chica from the organic chemistry lab, she took her first day off fr'monitoring lessons in months, 'nd the stand-in lab assistant fucked up so bad that some kids got things t'explode bad enough for the fire department t'come. Th'Dean just said that this is why all the sciences don't get put into th'nice historical buildings, 'cos they can't be trusted with nice things. Es verdad, sí, but what an ass thing t'say."

 Lavi chatters on and on and on, catching Yuu up to all that's been going on since he's left, and Yuu's mood just keeps getting worse and worse and worse. It's like they divorced, him and Lavi, but they still can't really get rid of each other, but in the settlement Lavi got the house and the pets and all the good stuff, and Yuu...

 What is there for him here? A shitty apartment and shitty students and the shitty school board, and all he hears from Lavi is _we're fine without you, but you aren't fine without us._

 (This, obviously, was not Lavi's intention. Yuu's stonier-than-usual silence was freaking him out, so he was using chatter as a stop-gap measure to keep things going until they could go back to his room and hopefully unwind).

 (Yuu, drunk halfway to hell and back, could not parse this).

 His pride (he's fine, he's fine, he doesn't need anything, he's good as he is), the alcohol (holy fffffuck how much shochu did the bartender dump into every glass) and his impotent rage (it may well be disguised misery) had come to a head when on the way back to Lavi's hotel, Lavi had off-handedly brought up his return plans.

 "'s a pity I couldn't stay for longer, yeah, but th'school's pretty strict on what they will 'nd won't cover. Th'flight's on Friday night, but I'm off work from Thursday afternoon, so you can take me 'round, Mr. Tokyo-man!"

 Yuu knows that that's when he snapped. It's a blur of angry shouting, mostly from him, and Lavi trying to calm him down. He remembers that it had started raining while he was mid-tirade about how Lavi can just fuck right the fuck off back to Salamanca and not waste his time here. He was soaked through around the time he switched out of English to Spanish, and he was aching for a fight around the time his oft-concealed Peruvian accent came out full force, telling Lavi that he's not a pity-fuck.

 New Year's, with the booze and the grapes and the fond affection felt like a lifetime away. What was clear in his booze-addled mind was sitting in his office on his birthday and having Lavi cancel their plan to Skype because he was going out with his co-workers.

It's not like birthdays are a big deal for Yuu, not particularly, but "What fucking _matters_ to you, Lavi? Got a job, got a roof over your head, life's just too good for you? Tch. Congratu-fucking-well done, but I'm not going to be around waiting for scraps of your affection. ¡Vete al carajo!"

 A few days on, Yuu remembers the feeling of raising his hand in anger, and he probably would have carried through with it, too, if Lavi hadn't just.... sortof folded in on himself, and gone "Sorry, Yuu. I didn't know 's how you felt. I... 'm just going t'go now, yeah?"

 A few days on, and the memory of the dark red of Lavi's hair disappearing in the gloom of the rain is still the clearest, most fucking awful memory of the night.

 They haven't spoken since, and right now Yuu is in his office with his Youtube playlist for classic rock playing, trying to pretend he's not nose-deep in regret.

 Axl Rose is asking him repeatedly, where do we go now, but Yuu is not the man with the answers.

 He doesn't think he ever was. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna update it on the first i said, lying. my ankle's all good again, but between school and shite weather, it's a rough july that's come, babes. also the spanish slang i got from the dictionary, if there's anything more specifically peruvian please holla at your girl.
> 
> fights are horrible to have and miserable to write.


	13. i know, i know, i know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> july into august into september, here are the things that we deserve

 The rest of July, all of August and part of September go by in a bit of a miserable blur for Lavi. He's had arguments before, he's quite the feisty boy when his needs arise, but he's never been brung so low by one.

 

 How low, is something he discovers on this pleasantly cool, beautifully sunny morning, drinking his customary cup o' coffee before heading in to work. Feeling a little European and a lot sick of moping, Lavi decides to have his drink and his toast standing, facing out the biggest windows of the flat, creeping on people coming and going down one of the little alleys that riddle the little ancient city. It's all good and all well, until he realises It.

 

 The beautiful little collection of succulents on the sill, formerly sweet and full, are pathetically shrunk and shrivelled. The leaves are grey-tinged, dried out like deeply unloved prunes, spread like a melting candle. 

 

 Lord, god. He almost drops his cup to the ground in his despair but his breakfast is more unlucky; the toast is lost to a floor that needed to be swept a good week ago now.

 

 Gingerly Lavi puts aside his coffee, and goes down to his knees in belated prayer.

 

 "Lord, how 've failed you lot. Diego, Maria, Ajit, Ladhka, babies! How I've wronged you guys!" Hand on heart, he can't remember the last time he last had a soft chat with them, and he can't remember the last time he's watered them.

 

 It's with some soft, all-encompassing horror that he figures it was probably the day he left for Japan, excitedly telling them he was meeting their other parent and spraying them with an extra measure of water.

 

 "Mis cariños," he mourns, reaching for his phone. He's going to take a sick day, one that the dear darlin' doctor has been telling him to take ever since he came back to their hotel after leaving Yuu in the rain, looking like a man whose 15 pets were all killed in a terrible freak accident.

 

Hasty e-mail sent, Lavi sits neatly with his legs folded under him, and googles "how to save a life".

 

-

 

He has a _moment_ listening to the extremely soppy song, and moves on to then google "how to save a wilted succulent". Ladhka and them have already been sprayed with some mineral water; Lavi is a man out for atonement.

 

-

 

_-but if they've almost completely shrivelled up they likely won’t recover._

 

Ah, well. Shrivel-level is in the eye of the beholder. Lavi's miserable almost to the point of tears, and just spritzes them a little more instead of crying.

 

-

 

_For the most part, it’s much easier to revive an under watered succulent than over watered._

 

"Thank fuck f'that," Lavi tells his little darlings, and then spends an unpleasant amount of time thinking about how he might have under watered Yuu ever since the magnificent man moved miles 'nd miles away, just assuming that plant and man alike were hardy and strong and resilient and didn't need him for shit.

 

 It doesn't take long to figure that he might not remember or even have noticed when he started short-changing his far-flung partner, but where succulents shrivel with neglect Yuu just explodes, and that happened all the way back in July, so the question is, are they at the point where they 

 

_likely won't recover._

 

  _Kutte ka aulad_ , what a mess. Only one way to find out, yeah. He tabs out of his internet browser, and clicks on Skype, and hopeshopeshopes that with mineral water/desire to work things out, this won't be the end of it all.

 

 Yuu doesn't appear online, but he's not a man who likes to be seen, so it won't hurt to try. 

 

 He presses the call button and waits, listening to the semi-hypnotic ring tone, feeling adrenaline rushing through him as he desperately tries to think of a way to describe how sorry he is while also giving Yuu shit for not bringing up the things that were bothering him, culminating in a long two and a half months of abject moping (at least on his part).

 

 (It's terrible, but he hopes Yuu looks as miserable as Lavi does, too.)

 

 Then suddenly the call is being picked up, voice where Lavi had wanted video, and he finds it hard to breath, and harder still to croak out "Hey, mi amado. Long time no see, yeah?"

 

 Lavi, and maybe even the universe, hold their collective breaths; Yuu might answer!

 

 Yuu might hang up.

 

 It's an agonising wait of almost half a minute, before the gorgeous irritated tones of Kanda Yuu, educator extraordinaire, barks out a "The fuck, Lavi" through a shitty phone speaker and 10,000 kilometres.

 

 This is just the first spray of water, and Lavi won't know if he left it too late until quite a lot later after this, but it's a first step, and that familiar, fantastic voice almost gives him a headache from too much feeling. "Please, yeah. Can we talk?"

 

-

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY that i missed august, this has been an exciting clusterfuck of a summer break. we should be back to our regular schedule, at least until January.
> 
> also this got posted today so i could squeeze in a HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZAN! hope you had a great one with your family <3


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